


Life's Lush Lips

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, chapstick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:04:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Pete borrows chapstick from Patrick, and one time he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's Lush Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/petewentz/status/559913228700880897) and [this gif](http://thislossofsleep.tumblr.com/post/115022343446)  
> This has been a WIP for months, and I just finished it. Unbetad.

1.  
It’s pitch dark outside the van, and Pete is cold despite layering his warmest hoodie over his second warmest one. They’re all quiet after a really great show where people actually stayed and watched them play despite the awful sound and the shitty venue, and it feels like a big win for them as a band. Pete stares out the window at the blur of trees and houses as they go by, and in the reflection he can see Patrick applying some chapstick. 

Pete grins and watches Patrick replace the cap. When Patrick is about to put it back in his rucksack, Pete grabs it from him. He takes his time to smear it on his lips, while Patrick scowls at him. The longer he spends drawing around the shape of his mouth with it, the more Patrick’s frown deepens. 

“Hey, what’s the pissy face for? It’s just chapstick.”

“Yeah, and I know what dirty scenester your mouth has been near.” Patrick snatches the chapstick back off him and shoves it into the front pocket of his jeans. Pete knows the scene boy Patrick means, the one Pete spent ages kissing against the van until Joe told him they would leave him behind if he didn’t get in the fucking van already. Pete can see Patrick’s concerns, he was kinda skanky, but totally worth it. 

“Bet you’d like to know, though. You should have seen him.” Pete leers at Patrick and leans in close. He knows he’s being annoying, but he couldn’t care less. He’s on a high and feeling good despite tiredness and the cold.

“Don’t want to know. Just be nice okay? Don’t take advantage just because I’m the only one clever enough to bring chapstick.”

“Bullshit, Stump. The only reason you have chapstick with you is ‘cause your mom packed it for you.” And as an afterthought he flicks Patrick on the arm and says, “And I would never take advantage.”

Patrick narrows his eyes and gives him a disapproving look. He mutters to himself, “Yeah, you wish your mom had packed you some.”

Pete has a sudden pang of homesickness, and a want to sleep in a bed that’s not a hotel bed. He makes a face. He forgets that the rest of them - especially with Patrick being so young – sometimes have shitty days too and he doesn’t need to add to it. “I kinda do actually. Tell you what, I’ll pick you one up at the next gas station stop seeing as I got scenester cooties all over this one.”

He smacks a heavily-chapsticked kiss on Patrick’s cheek with a grin and dodges the balled up shirt that Patrick lobs across the van at him. Though now Patrick is smiling so he doesn’t care.

2.  
“Dude, relax!”

“I’m totally relaxed,” Pete says, though he feels nothing of the sort. He was trying for the whole fake-it-till-he-makes-it thing today. If he pretends he’s calm, maybe he will be, though so far it’s not working. Patrick laughs and Pete’s jaw clenches. It’s just another show that they’re playing but he’s filled with anxiety all the way down to his toes. It’s not stage fright, more fear that the world is slowly collapsing around him. He’s had a lot of that lately, but it just feels bigger and heavier since he woke up this morning.

“You’re really not. And I thought I was usually the one for nerves before show time.” And it’s true. Pete’s given Patrick more pep talks before shows than he can remember, and today it’s his turn to receive one. Patrick takes him by the shoulder and makes Pete lock eyes with him. “Breathe,” is all Patrick says. His eyes twinkle and Pete’s insides untwist a little.

Pete manages a little smile, though it’s for mere seconds before he goes back to freaking out and pulling at the skin around his finger nails, but maybe Patrick has a point. He takes a few deep breaths, ones that go right down into the pit of his lungs, and when he exhales it helps empty some of his nerves out.

“It’s cool,” Pete says. And it almost is. His lips are bitten raw from spending the day a bundle of anxiety, nipping at the skin until his lower lip bled on the inside.

“Heads up.” Patrick throws something small and plastic at him and he only just manages to stick his hand out in time to catch it. 

He flinches and says, “Yeah because a black eye before we go on would be great.” Though when he looks in his hand, it’s a little white lidded tube of chapstick and probably too small to do any damage to his face. He grins. At least he won’t have chapped-to-fuck lips while he plays now.

“Where was that?”  
“Guitar case. Come on, we have about five minutes. Ready?”

Pete smiles, and it’s finally a real one. He’s ready. Still nervous and stressed, but he can switch it off enough to get through an hour. He shoves Patrick’s chapstick in his back pocket and throws his arm around Patrick’s shoulders.

“Always looking after me, Pattycakes.”

 

3.  
“Trick, Trick, Trick.”  
“Hey, Pete,” Patrick says. Pete crawls into Patrick’s bunk, climbing all the way over him so that he’s at the wall. He lies on his stomach, smiling at Patrick.  
“Haven’t seen you since last night. Let me guess-“  
“Yeah, I was with Mikey.” Pete grins.

Patrick cocks an eyebrow, but he doesn’t look surprised. Pete has had the same argument more than once this summer about Pete being careful how deep he gets involved with someone he won’t see daily very soon. As much as Pete has sworn to Patrick that it’s just a summer romance, they both know that Pete is in very deep indeed, so Pete has stopped pretending.

“I’m totally in love, Trick. The world is beautiful,” he coos. Patrick gives him a lopsided smile and Pete knows what he’s going to say. He just doesn’t want to hear it. “And I know what you’re about to say, so don’t.”  
“What happens after next week?”  
“That’s what I didn’t want you to say. Don’t know yet.” 

Pete fiddles with the junk crammed down the side of Patrick’s bunk; candy bars, spare phone charger, chapstick, a porno magazine. Pete winces and puts the magazine back, knowing Patrick will blush eighteen shades of pink if he pulls that out. Even though Patrick is adorable when he’s embarrassed, now might not be the right time. Pete takes the chapstick and rolls the tube between his fingers, repeatedly pulling off the lid and pushing it back on until it clicks. 

“We could just go to Europe too. Tag along. Maybe they can add us to the bill.” Pete fidgets and wriggles until Patrick lifts his arm up and out of the way. Pete takes the invitation gladly and puts his head on Patrick’s shoulder. He’ll take any comfort he can get.

“Doesn’t work like that and you know it. Plus, we have other things booked.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He can feel frustration bubbling in his stomach, and this is the exact reason he didn’t want to talk about this. There’s no actual solution to this, which means that he and Mikey finish things up, or else struggle to do some sort of long distance thing. Both ideas suck. He burrows further into Patrick’s armpit. Maybe if he burrows all the way in he won’t have to deal with the real world.

“I’m taking this,” Pete says, holding up the chapstick and then wedging it into his pocket. “I’ll need it after all the kissing I have planned for later.” He looks up and wiggles his eyebrows. Patrick smiles. Pete knows Patrick means well, even if it’s partly because he will inevitably be the one to pick up the pieces if it all goes wrong, just like he’s done before. It’s not that Pete doesn’t care, or that he’s not grateful, it’s just that sometimes it’s easier to live in blissful ignorance and not deal with the shit-storm until he has to.

“Just be careful, Pete. Enjoy the time you have left. Just-“  
“I know.”

4.  
Pete jumps on the bed and Patrick glares at him briefly, and then goes back to ignoring him. It’s usually the other way around, usually Patrick trying to talk Pete out of some godforsaken black mood, though never by dancing and jumping around like Pete is doing. For once, it’s Pete’s turn to snap Patrick out of one. Not that it’s as bad as some of Pete’s, but Patrick is having a shitty day and goddamnit, it’s Pete’s job as BFF to make Patrick laugh or smile or something. It’s harder than he thought though, Patrick seems determined to stay pissed off.

Pete has been hopping around their hotel room for at least fifteen minutes. At first Patrick straight up ignored him, but now Pete is almost sure his stupid inane dancing and singing might actually be good for something other than getting security to call to their room to tell him to shut up.

“Pete, just fucking quit it.” Patrick’s voice is harsh and there’s a fire in his eyes that makes Pete think he might actually get punched while dancing around the hotel room.

“I kissed a Patrick, and I liked it,” he sings for the fifteenth time. “Taste of his cherry chapstick.”  
“Pete!”  
“Not till you cheer up.” He swivels his hips. “I can go all night! I kissed a Patrick, and I liked-“  
“Fine. I’ve cheered up.”  
“Bullshit,” he sings. “I kissed a Patrick, and-“

Patrick cuts him off with a glare that could kill if it was any harder, but Pete can see his face soften at the end of it. His annoyance is waning. Pete sings the chorus once more with added hips swivelling and ass wiggling and finally as he jumps off the bed and slides along the carpet on his knees, Patrick’s lips twitch into an almost-smile. It’s a start, and it feels like a small victory for Pete, and he’ll take it.

“Will I do it again?”  
“No, Pete. I’m fine. And I’m sure the hotel manager will be here any minute to tell you off.” Patrick gives up his sulking seat on the sofa and comes to lie down beside Pete on the bed. Pete is on top of the covers, finally sprawling out after all his dancing. He shifts over to give Patrick room to lie down.

“You’ve cheered up? You promise?”  
“Yeah. I guess. Just a shitty day.” He moves his arm up to let Pete shuffle down and put his head on his shoulder, relieved that Patrick is relaxed after feeling so bad earlier. They’re quiet for a long time and Pete breaks the silence by humming _I kissed a girl_ again until Patrick’s mouth finally stretches into a grin. Pete feels triumphant.

“You’re wrong, anyway,” Patrick says.  
“I know, I know. I didn’t kiss a Patrick. But I totally would for you,” Pete leers and he knows that to Patrick it’s a joke. It’s always a joke to him, and even if Pete acts like it too, he’s being honest when he says things like that. Patrick blushes and makes a face at him, but he looks in much better humour.

“No,” Patrick says, fishing a little while tube out of his pocket and handing it to Pete. “I mean it’s not cherry. It’s vanilla.”  
Pete grins and ducks his head down to hide a slight blush as he shoves the chapstick into his own pocket. He’ll change the lyrics the next time he has to sing to cheer Patrick up.

 

5.  
“You have chapstick?” Pete asks.

“Yeah, I got some,” Patrick says from behind Pete. 

Patrick is deep in concentration folding clothes and stuffing them into his suitcase. They have bus call in half an hour and Pete’s belongings are still strewn all over the hotel room. He started packing, got two pairs of pants and some dirty underwear into his bag and then gave up, knowing that he was cram it all in in the last five minutes like he usually does. He watches as Patrick folds a pair of pants awkwardly, and wedges them in between sneakers and a book. 

“Why?” Patrick asks, though Pete is sure Patrick knows why, it’s not exactly rocket science. It’s wintery outside. 

“My lips are chapped,” Pete says, and Patrick passes it to him without turning around, and why else would Pete want it? Pete takes the tube and smears it on without much care. “You need it too?” he asks, taking a step closer to Patrick, even if Patrick’s back is to him and his attention is on his case.  
“Sure,” Patrick says. He still hasn’t turned around and Pete is right behind him now.  
“Okay, here you go.” Patrick spins, and when he does, Pete is right in front of him, so close that Pete can see the freckles on his forehead, and see the individual hairs in his newly grown winter-beard.

It feels like several minutes go by with both of them standing stock-still, and Pete holds his breath. He’s been thinking about this moment for so long, and not just days or weeks, but years. Pete has had many chances to try this and he’s always talked himself out of it, but today, for whatever reason he can’t pinpoint, it feels right. 

He stares at Patrick’s mouth, the mouth that sings the declarations of love that Pete writes, the mouth that gets Pete out of the shit he gets himself into in interviews, the mouth that pretty much always has a kind word for Pete, and he leans in and kisses it.

It’s the moment that Pete has thought about for years, it’s not a play-kiss or an obnoxious one, it’s real, and even if Patrick smacks Pete across the face for it, after so long he has to know if Patrick feels the same.

Patrick does, it seems, because his lips slide back against Pete’s, kissing back slowly. The chapstick tastes sweet, but not nearly as good as Patrick tastes when he opens his mouth and lets Pete in. It only lasts for a moment before they pull apart, and Patrick squeezes Pete’s fingers briefly, smiling shyly before going back to packing.

“We’re going to be late,” Patrick says.  
“Can’t keep anyone waiting,” Pete replies simply.

Pete can’t get the grin off his face as he restarts his haphazard packing and when he glances over at Patrick, Patrick is touching his lips where Pete has just kissed.

+1

“They’re going to know,” Patrick says.  
“They won’t,” Pete says and kisses Patrick again, licks into his mouth, deep and slow.  
“They will.”

Pete wonders if he cares if people will know that they’ve spent the last half hour holed up in the dressing room with the door locked, wrapped around each other and kissing wildly. He decides he only cares because Patrick cares, he’d declare his love to the world if Patrick said he could. He pulls back and looks at Patrick; his hat is a little askew and his pupils are blown. His lips are pink and more plump than usual, and that might actually be a little give away.

“Okay, they might know we’ve been in here making out,” Pete says finally, after several more long, drawn out kisses that curl his toes and send his heart racing. “Here,” he says, pulling chapstick from his back pocket. 

Patrick smirks first, and then straightens his face. He lets Pete uncap the tube and draw the chapstick slowly onto his lips. He follows the curve of the bottom lip and then when he’s done, he leans in and kisses Patrick again and again.

“Not gonna help if you kiss it all off again.”  
“You love it.”  
“Yeah, I really do.”


End file.
